Mistletoe Cowboy
by jlove34
Summary: Post NM: It's Christmas Eve and Peter is off to the Cullens' to spend the holidays. Stopping off in Georgia, our favorite soldier runs into his mate while hunting. Sadly, she isn't all that pleased to make his acquaintance. Will Bella accompany Peter to Christmas once she learn his family's identity? (1st chapter mentions self harm.) Peter/Bella
1. Prelude to a Mate

_*Chapter one briefly mention details of a botched suicide, as well as mental anguish. If this is a trigger for you, please tread carefully.*_

**_Public Service Announcement:_**

_If you feel like if feel like your life is spiraling out of control, and you feel that your only escape from the pain is suicide, please tell or call someone: a friend, 911, a neighbor? Life can be devastating. Get help. No one will judge you._

_National Suicide Prevention Hotline. 1-800-273-8255.  
_

_****__(I have taken the liberty of fiddling with canon. So, this is deviation of New Moon, AU)_

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**_"We are homesick most for the places we have never known."  
― Carson McCullers_**

**_*Twilight is the sole property of SM and her publishing company.*_**

**_Chapter 1-_**

**_Prelude to a Mate_**

**_Peter_**

* * *

_Christmas._

Jasper and I have always loved the Holidays. There was just somethin' special about Christmas that appealed to the two of us. Whether it was the snow, the presents, or the merely the companionship of our familial ties, December twenty-fifth was a magical time of year for the Whitlock family. Even though our immortal lives had begun with painful memories and excruciating scars, we reveled in the promise that a new year was liable to bring us. A hundred years of brutality was apt to leave more than physical scars, so we always aimed to make new memories. Since we'd fled from Maria's employ nearly a half century ago, we snatch up every opportunity to be together, especially durin' the holidays.

Momma would've wanted that for us.

This year, I had been invited to join my brother and the Cullens at their newest residence in Ithaca, a move made necessary after their lengthy stay in Chicago, followin' a rather abrupt upheaval in Washington. Jasper and I didn't spend a lot of time with one another. Amid him bein' the perpetual student, with his disgustin' dietary habits and crazy view on humanity, and with me livin' the life of a nomad, runnin' around the country bein' the altruistic sibling, savin' the public from rapists and drug dealers (I was a Saint, really), we had chosen to live apart. Carlisle's dogma morally forbade him from takin' human life as sustenance, whereas I believed my lifestyle was a kindness to humanity. Our difference of opinion caused strife in the Cullen household, so in the interest of peace, we separated. My absence was the lesser of two evils, even though I had believed we could amicably coincide.

Having an _actual_ blood relative follow you into immortality was a rarity amongst our kind- indeed a luxury only a very few were blessed with. More often than not, for obvious reasons, a person was forced to leave their family and friends behind following the painful transformation. The fact that I hadn't had to live without my brother was a blessin', in and of itself. That was, perhaps, the only kindness that the warlord, Maria, had ever gifted us, even if it only satisfied her need for power. In that respect, I supposed we were fortunate. Everything else that we had lived through was a travesty. Even though the details of said introduction into the vampire world were sordid, our familial ties and fortuitous gifts afforded the ability to escape the cruelty of the cold-hearted bitch.

Durin' our human life, following my father's death, I had been appointed the head of the household in his stead. Since I had assumed the commission, momma expected me to lead the lil' ones by example. However, at the time, I wasn't ready to fill his shoes. I was far too selfish to be serious about my new role. My guilty pleasures included booze, women, and gamblin'. When I wasn't at work, you would've found me balls deep with a local whore, Charlotte, particularly, as she was my favorite. I ignorined my responsibilities and my siblings. Jasper and Melissa suffered greatly for my sins. My arrogance facilitated the path that brought about our immortality.

Jasper had joined the Confederate Army when he was a mere boy of seventeen, still fresh-faced and wet behind the ears, naïve in all ways. Charismatic to a fault, the lil' shit had falsified his age and rashly signed his life away with a flourish of a quill, becomin' the property of the Government in the blink of an eye. Even in infancy, that fucker could bend a crowd to his biddin' with a single glance. My brother was never destined to spend his life farmin', God intended for Jasper to do great things. And he had, in a manner of speakin'. Though his chosen profession came as a surprise, I thought it came naturally. Soldierin' suited his spirit just fine. It made him a man, brave and tenacious to a fault.

His ambitiousness was his curse.

It hadn't been my intent to go to war. It hadn't appealed to me in the way it seemed to call out to him, almost a siren call in its intensity. Momma was a mess for weeks after she found his letter on her pillow. Even though I was damned near twenty-six when the asswipe skipped town, I still found myself on the receivin' end of a switch. Christina Whitlock had a fiery temper that matched her crimson locks. I thought gettin' off the tit was the best thing that ever happened to that boy, but she let me know how wrong I had been by beatin' me within an inch of my life. After that night, it hadn't been a conscious thought of whether or not I would join the Army, it was out of my control, at that point. I wouldn't leave my brother's life to chance if I could've kept him safe. So very reluctantly, I packed my satchel and left home, sharin' in my brother's fate.

I had been lucky to have been assigned to Jasper's regiment. It easy allowed me to keep him close at hand. While I was content being a mere grunt, the kid drug himself up the ranks quite quickly, makin' Major before his balls had even had a chance to drop. To my dismay, my brother refused to allow me to remain neutral and forced me to dig deep, to discipline myself- something I hadn't always been keen on doin'. Eventually, his persistence paid off and I had earned the rank of Captain under my brother's tutelage. I was a damned proficient soldier, both as a human and as a vampire, but strangely enough, I hadn't found my new role quite as rewardin' as my brother had found his. It wasn't in my nature to be second best. After all, I was far too pretty a man to be someone's bitch, let alone my baby brother's bitch.

Word of our friendly rivalry spread across the encampments. Our tenacity had earned us quite the reputation, and soon, we had garnered ourselves the unrequited appreciation of a certain vampire Warlord. I learned later that the Mexican bitch and her two coven whores, Nettie and Lucy, had laid in wait and snatched him up on a mission outside of Galveston, Texas, where he had been evacuatin' women and children.

That was the last time I saw my brother alive.

Several weeks passed me by and I unwillingly found myself in charge of our unit, promoted on my brother's merit. It didn't feel right. I wasn't right without him, and I became despondent in his absence, heavy with grief. I couldn't eat or sleep, plagued with nightmares even during my waking hours. I knew I couldn't live without him. I couldn't face momma- tell her I had failed to keep her baby safe from harm.

For three weeks, I wallowed under the self-deprecatin' fog of doubt and depression, under the crushing weight of survivor's guilt. The soldiers and my superiors believed the young Major abandoned his regiment. That was a blatant falsehood. Jasper Whitlock was anything but a deserter. It wasn't in his nature. Despite everyone's speculations, I knew deep in my soul that my brother was dead, and I couldn't bear the thought of bein' left behind. I wasn't strong enough to survive without him. Without Jasper, I was weak, incompetent even.

I saddled up my horse in the wee hours of dawn and rode out about four miles, only stoppin' when the tears made it difficult to see. Swingin' my leg from the stirrup, I gingerly lowered myself to the ground and upholstered my pistol. I turned it over in my hands and tentatively ran my fingers over the weapon, revilin' in the feelin' of the cold steel against my palm. The metal was like satin against my skin and mentally 'sang' to me as I traced my fingers up the barrel, across the top strap, pausin' at the hammer. I cocked it back gently and cringed at the ominous noise that it had made, though the sound had done little to dissuade my decision. I furled my fingers around the hilt and allowed my forefinger to take up residence on the trigger.

Sobs racked my body, and in my anguish, I crumpled to the ground and wrapped my arms around my head. I had never felt so alone, so completely vulnerable, before that very moment. My mind was alight with activity, on a constant loop, brandishin' my anguished memories behind my eyelids like millions of tiny photographs, hell bent on destroying me from within. It was all encompassin' and raw along the edges, eatin' away at my essence like rotting flesh. I could still hear his voice, rich and authoritative, chastisin' me for takin' the easy way out. And he was right. My heart was cowardly, and I _was_ takin' the easy way out, but I hadn't known how to function without my best friend. I hadn't been strong enough, then. Hell, I wasn't strong enough, now.

How could I live a normal life without Jasper? I was so heartbroken.

As the pain ravaged my mind, I conjured up visions of my demise. The thought of my own funeral pyre was the loveliest thought I could conjure, an beautiful escape from the fiery claws of reality. Resigned to my fate, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and raised the firearm to my temple, closin' my finger over the trigger.

In the seconds it took to engage the loadin' mechanism and trigger the precision cap, I was no longer alone. My eyes had time to register the tiny, raven-haired woman at my side for only an instant before the bullet entered the chamber. The woman's wide eyes bore into my soul, garnerin' somethin' unknown from my own empty depths. She immediately grasped the hilt of my Remington and flung it effortlessly from my palm. The cartridge discharged from the barrel miles away from its intended target, causin' my horse to spook and tear off across the heat-ravaged earth.

The woman grasped my face within her hands and smiled a devilish grin, cooin' at me like a small child. "Oh, no, pequeño! I shall not allow you to die in such a manner. Your battle skills will be so valuable. I can help you put that pain to a better use."

I ground my teeth together and scoffed at the lovely angel before me. _How dare she take away my respite?_ "Ya' no nothing of anguish and loss, woman. Ya' should've let me die," I snarled, furious that she mocked me with her pretty tongue.

A tiny alabaster hand ghosted up and painfully tightened itself around my throat, slowly liftin' me off the ground. I grasped her wrist and clawed at her flesh, attemptin' to free myself from her grasp, as I frantically gasped for breath. But my efforts were futile. She was strong, inhumanly strong for such a small female. Narrowed crimson eyes studied me serendipitously. She tilted her head slightly and smiled wryly. Whatever she had garnered from my appearance pleased the raven-haired woman and she dropped me in a heap on the ground.

"You look so like my newest recruit, a soldier himself, actually—brothers I would imagine," she mused. I was confused. _Whom did she speak of?_ _Was it_ _my brother?_ "You must be the famous Captain Whitlock that my new pet agonizes over?"

I gasped and unsteadily clambered to my feet. Was it true? "Jasper's alive?" I queried.

"In a matter of speaking, yes. Would you like to see him again, cariño?" I nodded emphatically, frantic to learn anythin' about my brother. My reaction had obviously pleased the ethereal creature. "Very well. If you survive, you'll be of great use to me. Perhaps, with proper persuasion, my newest soldier will become more cooperative"

She turned to me and harshly uttered a phrase that would haunt my sleepless days and nights for all of eternity.

"Bienvenidos a mi ejército, mi amante." _(Welcome to my army, my lover.)_

**_~*MC*~_**

I rolled in to the tiny town of Alpharetta, Georgia late Christmas Eve. It was a necessary stop on my journey, as I both required sustenance and gasoline. (Carlisle preferred I hunt outside of their hometown for obvious reasons.) I believed this tiny burg would serve both very nicely. After my basic needs were met, I planned on acquirin' the ever-crucial mistletoe. No festivity was complete without that small token of affection. One could not garner enough kisses, and I always exploited every opportunity to engage in my favorite activities.

Once off the freeway, I coasted into the local truck stop and fueled the truck, happily whistlin' a tune while clandestinely scannin' the lot for my next meal. Outside of bars and dark alleys, truck stops were frequent haunts for prostitutes. Since I only garnered my victuals from the miscreants of society, I had hoped I might snag a tasty morsel outside this establishment, killin' two birds with one stone. Regrettably, I had found no such creatures slinkin' around the lot, so I quickly strode into the station, paid for my fuel, and jumped into my vehicle.

_A bar it is, then._

I aimlessly drove around the city, on the prowl for an institution that was still open on the eve of a holiday, and found myself in a shady part of town. _Perfect hunting grounds!_ I slowed and pulled my truck against the curb, slidin' from the vehicle and continuin' my trek on foot. It only took me three blocks to find a suitable candidate for tonight's meal. I stalked toward the group of three men who had a young woman cornered in a seedy alleyway, clawin' at her clothes and loudly tauntin' her with both vile expressions and unquestionable intentions. The poor thing was sobbin' uncontrollably, attemptin' to dissuade the group with whatever monetary items in her possession. The men, I knew, wouldn't have been satisfied with mere pecuniary items. After a century of studyin' human behavior, I knew without any doubt that only her flesh would've appeased the fiends. Sadly, she would need to be among the dead, as she would've been a witness to my sordid acts of violence. Our secret was sacred.

Death was preferable to defilement.

A growl slipped from my clenched teeth, and I sprung at the first of the assailants, snappin' his neck with deadly precision. His repugnant form slumped into a heap at my feet, mouth agape with a silent scream that would never leave his tongue.

"Oh, God. Jack we gotta get the fuck outta here…fast," the portly man uttered, voice quaverin' with fear. I allowed him a few moments before I sprinted down the alley and grasped him by the throat, sinkin' my teeth into his trachea, as his scream gurgled and died away.

_Two down, two to go!_

The remaining man cursed under his breath and dropped to his knees, promptly wettin' his drawers. _Peter ole' boy, you still have the touch!_ The man begged for his despicable life through loud sobs. I smiled wryly at his fear, not at all sorry that he would die such a grisly death. Besides, terror made the blood so much sweeter, and I was fuckin' hungry. I crouched to his level and swiftly snapped his neck, promptly endin' his reign of terror.

The woman whimpered and took several steps back, apparently frightened by my feral behavior. _Well, darlin' I'll end your fear here soon._

I bound to my feet and quickly stalked toward the tiny woman and pinned her against the wall. Then, I quickly wound my one arm around the back of her fragile neck, and used the other to silence her delicate lips, preparin' to sever her spinal column in one swift movement. The young woman deserved a peaceful end to the violence of this night, and I intended to gift her such. She was so very innocent, and I hated myself for murderin' one so young.

But when I met her terrified gaze, my whole world tilted on its axis. A yearnin' so profound slithered its way into my chest and skillfully wrapped itself around my undead heart. My inner demon roared in my head. _Mine_, he howled authoritatively. I gasped and closed my eyes, agony rippin' though my undead heart. Venom pooled behind my lashes, burnin' my eyes with the acrid liquid. A dagger sheathed itself in my gut and somethin' akin to nausea washed over me and tightened itself in my belly. I felt physically ill.

_Oh, sweet Jesus! Peter, you almost killed you own goddamned mate!_

The lovely woman slumped against me, incoherently mutterin' various things under her breath, 'vampire' bein' the most prevalent word. Her little heart raced under her breast, beatin' so fast it reminded me of a jet engine upon take off. An agonizin' moan slipped through her quivering lips, and I swore my undead heart shuddered under the weight of her sorrow. As I continued to gaze into her lovely, hazel depths, I knew my life was irrevocably changed. I had waited several lifetimes for this very moment, and I wouldn't ever let her go.

She shivered under my hands, and I reluctantly released her from my hold, restin' my hands on her shoulders, instantaneously lamentin' her loss. God, what a treasure!

Her arms wrapped themselves tightly around her torso, as though she were attemptin' to hold herself together. _Oh, sweet girl, how could someone so young be carryin' such pain?_ "Are you here to kill me? Please, if you are, have mercy and kill me quickly. I beg of you, don't hand me over to _her_."

I shook my head, grabbed her forearm, and pulled her into my arms, layin' my head against her hair. I was content for the first time in my vampire existence. She sagged against me and shook with violent sobs, obviously drownin' in despair. My heart broke into a million pieces at her profound sorrow. If it took the rest of my existence, I would wipe those tears from her eyes and keep her safe from harm.

I took a deep breath and let it out, her beautiful essence washing over me like calming waters. "Oh, darlin'. My lil' mate, I could never harm ya'. I am so sorry for the hurt I have caused ya'. I promise I will keep ya' safe within my arms forever."

"Wh…what?"

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**_Well, what'd ya' think? Reviews are appreciated._**


	2. The Name's Peter Whitlock, Ma'am

Thanks for all the reviews! I apologize that I didn't get a chance to answer all of them due to the holidays, but I enjoyed them immensely!

***Angst warning for this chapter**.*

*FYI: Bella is just as broken as Peter was before he became a vampire, sans the suicide attempt. He has experience with hurt and misery, and he'll help her to heal.*

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_**"There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds."**_**_-Laurell K. Hamilton, Mistral's Kiss_**

**_*Twilight is the sole property of SM and her publishing company.*_**

**_Chapter 2- The Name's Peter Whitlock, Ma'am  
_**

**_Bella_**

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I watched in veritable silence as the beautiful, blond vampire shattered the man's spinal column, nonchalantly allowing his lifeless body to crumple into a broken mass at his feet. I wanted to scream. The ferocity behind his scarlet eyes was painfully evident, as he stealthily scanned the alley for his next victim, thankfully ignoring me. For now, at least.

"Oh, God. Jack we gotta get the fuck outta here…fast," the second man expressed. His voice was hoarse and trembled under the sheer terror that seemed to blanket the small passageway.

The angel of death paused, arms crossed over his chest and a sardonic smile pulling at his lips, and watched my attacker sprint down the darkened space. Seconds later, he leapt to his feet with a cat-like grace and followed suit, far too quickly for the human eye to track. Then just as quickly, the vampire had the portly man's shirt clutched in his tightened fists, legs dangling off the ground, and his teeth firmly planted into his trachea, gleefully moaning as the elixir of life danced across his taste buds.

With rapt attention, I continued to watch as the demon hungrily devoured his prey with the fervor of a wild animal. His ferociousness was utterly terrifying, but I couldn't look away. After the events of the evening, I found his brutality oddly satisfying. I shuddered at the raw power that coiled under his alabaster skin, in awe of the magnetism that seemed to tether me his person. It angered me that I suddenly yearned to calm his ire, comfort him. But instead of moving toward him, I took several steps back, placing a healthy distance between the two of us. I knew the dangers of a bloodthirsty vampire, having witnessed the erratic behavior on several occasions. My renewed self-preservation was a product of my environment, a trait that Edward had always told me I had lacked. It was a healthy fear for one to have, especially at the moment, while this vampire was currently ruled by his nature.

Even though my heart was thrumming wildly in my chest, I could appreciate the splendor of the dangerous creature before me. He was easily the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes upon, even Edward Cullen with his lithe, muscular build and boyish good looks paled in comparison. I had once believed that the young vampire had resembled Michelangelo's David. I was wrong.

The telepath wasn't in the same league.

He was tall— easily a foot taller than my five-foot frame—with pale, blond curls that coiled about his broad shoulders. The dusky rose that tinted his full lips was a lovely contrast to his smooth, alabaster skin and just begged to be tasted. He had a well-defined chest, slim hips, and an ass that could make you beg for more. _Lord help me_. Michelangelo could've made this man's ass a sculpture all on its own. Tight jeans, a well fitted vest, and a black Stetson completed the appealing sight. Such a sinful treat.

The man seemed to dominate the space between us with the barely contained violence of an angry predator, as his eyes locked on to the last of his prey. The blond slowly stalked toward his final quarry with a defiant growl that rumbled in his chest. He chuckled as the despicable human dropped to his knees and pleaded for mercy between hysterical sobs, a trickle of urine flowing down his trousers in response to his fear. He knew his fate and glanced up at me, begging for me to intervene.

The fucker was crazy if he thought I was stepping between him and a crazed vampire!

The vampire smiled wryly at his pathetic groveling, bent at the waist, and swiftly snapped his neck with nimble fingers. His body, like the others, fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

He rose from his crouched position and sauntered toward me with a delightful swagger, carefully pinning me to the wall, securing me tightly within his grasp. Then, in the blink of an eye, he wound his free arm around the back of my neck, and used the strong, callused hand to silence the sob that stuck in my throat, preparing to end my pathetic existence with a flick of his wrists. My heart was wildly pumping beneath my sternum, but even though I was frightened of this creature, I wouldn't allow him to see my fear. I took a huge lungful of air and released it, thankful that Victoria's torment would end with my last thump of my heart. I deserved a peaceful end to the massacres and mayhem that my aggressor had painstakingly inflicted upon me over the last decade.

I gazed into his crimson eyes serendipitously, shocked by what I found there. Something glittered in those fathomless depths—something that held him stalk-still and fixated upon my own hazel, when moments prior he had been focused upon taking my life. He loosened his grip and dropped his hands to my shoulders, continuing to stare at me with an unreadable expression.

His scrutiny made me feel uncomfortable, so instead of gawking at him, I slumped against his larger frame. My mind was reeling with a myriad of emotions, all contending for superiority. Anger, despair, and fear singed the fringes of my brain like acid, and I couldn't hold in the incoherent mumbling that accompanied the overwhelming feelings. "Fucking vampires. Damned sanctimonious vampires. Those assholes left me to die. What have I ever done to deserve this? "

The frigidity of his skin caused me to shudder, and he quickly released me, surprising the hell out of me as he took several steps backward. A tortured expression crossed his beautiful face, and I felt my control slipping. _He_ had often looked at me similarly, and I found his visage unnerving.

My heart rate increased as the unbidden memories assaulted me, all deadly and heartbreaking, and as a reflex, I wrapped my arms tightly around my torso, crumbling apart like plaster. I didn't want to revisit the past. It was a terrible place to dwell. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, attempting to quell the anxiety that was slowly building in my chest. I couldn't handle another moment of this madness. It was time for it to end. I refused to run away. Death was a peaceful conclusion to my agony.

But, death was cruel and didn't release me of my misery. Instead, he continued to stand there with that pained expression etched across his perfect face, looking like someone had ran over his kitten.

_Why wasn't he killing me? I mused. Who sent him? Does he work for Victoria? Or was I simply in the wrong place at the right time?_

"Are you here to kill me? Please, if you are, have mercy and kill me quickly. I beg of you, don't hand me over to _her_."

He shook his head, then grasped me by the forearm, and tugged me body gently against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around my frame in an almost intimate embrace. After several moments, he laid his head against my hair and deeply inhaled, seemingly comforted by my essence. It had been years since I had had any physical contact with anyone, human or otherwise, and I allowed this dangerous creature to comfort me as I, once again, fell apart at the seams. For the first time in eight years, this stranger had made me actually feel something. That was a feat all its own, because I had felt nothing for so long.

The tears flowed freely now, and I cried for everyone I had lost, every liter of spilled blood, every scream of agony, every excruciating casualty. When Edward left me in the woods, he had sentenced me to a veritable Hell on Earth. His selfishness and child-like reasoning facilitated an all out war. By leaving me, he condemned, not only me, but the families of the one hundred and fifty-seven innocent souls to a life of misery—lives that would've been spared had he just stayed with me, changed me, rather then skipping off into the twilight for my own good. He should've just allowed Jasper to kill me. Exsanguination would've been a blessing, far more favorable than the bloodshed that subsequently ensued.

Two days shy of my nineteen birthday, Victoria, like a virulent disease, swept into the valley with twenty-three feral newborns and succeeded in whipping out an entire supernatural species. Twelve healthy, young men came face-to-face with their doom, eleven of which wouldn't ever return home. All of which was _my_ fault.

The mêlée had caused a massive hemorrhage in the county of Clallam.

Seth Clearwater was the only member of the wolf pack that had survived the skirmish. I thanked God every day for that boy, my brother, my friend. Lord only knew what that kid had witnessed in the collective mind of his brothers. I hadn't ever asked him about the details, and he never divulged that information. But whatever it had been, I knew it had been horrific. It was permanently etched across the poor boy's face. Once the battle commenced, Sam had Alpha ordered the once bubbly, vibrant teen to collect me and run, saving me from my inevitable demise. Jake and the others sacrificed themselves for their tribe, for the people of Forks…for me. The sons and daughter, the spirit wolves of the great Quileute nation, were taken far too soon. _Fuck!_ I missed all of them. God, I even missed that asshole Paul. I would've given anything in the world to hear him call me a 'leech lover' again. And Jake…I missed him the most. Without my own personal Sun to warm me, I was forever cold and miserable.

Once the Alpha order had dissolved and he'd run me out of the State, he felt a shift in power, and he knew that he must return to the Reservation. He had become the Alpha, the lone wolf, and as the last remaining spirit warrior, it was his duty to protect his people. I couldn't fault him for leaving me. He had accomplished his task to the best of his abilities. I was safe. Well, as safe as I would ever be while Victoria still roamed the Earth.

I had spent the next three weeks traveling around and finally settled in a little town in Texas, attempting to salvage whatever happiness I could've garnered in this convoluted life. In a relatively short time, I had snagged myself a job and rented an apartment, feeling safer than I had in weeks. My peace was short-lived, though. The bitch laid in wait, watching me pull myself up by my bootstraps. It had pissed her off that I hadn't been writhing on the ground, mourning my loss. So, one night she crept in my window and kidnapped me. Then, she did the unconscionable and severed the gas line from the building. Victoria held my face still and made me watch as my entire complex explode, killing everyone within. That was when I knew my torment would never end. The fiery vampiress told me that she intended to toy with me and use my fear to her advantage, killing all those around me until she got bored and finished the job. Only she knew the time and date. The bitch kept her word. Three days later she popped up at my job, and once again, she made me watch as her lackey, a boy from Forks, massacred everyone in the building, sans me. Their screams and their faces still haunted my dreams.

Since then, I rarely stayed in any one place for more than several days, insuring the safety of those around me. I lived in my truck and often worked at seedy establishments, earning just enough to purchase food and gasoline, and then, I moved on to the next town and begin again. Outside of prostitution, I had done whatever was necessary to survive. Mostly I danced. The pay was decent, and they generally ignored things like social security numbers in favor of a fresh face- more revenue. It was perfect for someone who was currently on the missing person roster.

A rumbling sensation roused me from my silent reverie and yanked me back to the present. I mentally berated myself for my weakness. I had known better than to let my guard down. I stiffened in his grasp and struggled, but I was powerless against him.

"Oh, darlin'. My lil' mate, I could never harm ya'. I am so sorry for the hurt I have caused ya'. I promise I will keep ya' safe within my arms forever."

_What the hell? Does this guy have bipolar?_

"Wh…what?" I shouted with righteous indignation, pushing against his chest with everything I had. He allowed the action and stepped away from me, looking just as pained as he had moments ago. I was irritated by his strange declaration. The asswipe was merely dicking with me, playing with his food, so to speak. Well, guess what? He could kiss my ass. "_Your_ mate? I've heard that line before, and I'm not fucking buying it. Are you here to _toy_ with emotions? What? Did _she_ send you to make me fall for you, so she can _break _some more? Because, I'm fucking broken already! That redheaded whore did her job all too well. So, for once in your lowly existence, grant this pathetic human just one kindness and kill me!"

The vampire removed his hat and ran his fingers nervously through his curls, a strangled sob catching in his throat. He looked so young and vulnerable that I almost forgot that he murdered three people just minutes prior. "Who has caused ya' so much pain, my love? Talk to me, tell me what troubles ya' so that I might fix it."

"Fuck you! I don't need your pity," I snapped. "Why were _you_ gonna kill me?"

He sighed. "I was on the lookout for my next meal when I saw those men hacklin' ya'. At the time, I didn't understand my ire. I didn't understand why your situation was any different than the countless others I had witnessed. I try to only feed off the miscreants of society, particularly rapists. Men who force themselves on women are deplorable creatures and deserve to die. So, I ripped them apart, drank their blood, because I couldn't bare to watch them to defile ya'. Death was preferable to what those creatures had in store for ya'. Sadly, what ya' witnessed was against the law, and by said law, I was required kill ya'. Vampire laws are very stringent. There are only a few that are regularly enforced, and I had broken one of them by killin' in your presence. However, the universe had other plans for the two of us. Once I looked into those beautiful eyes"—He reached up and stroked my cheek with reverence—"I knew I could not kill ya'. _You_ are my mate, and as such, I could never allow harm to come to ya', by my hand or another, lest I die myself. Your safety is paramount—"

I cut him off, stalking toward him with purpose, and jabbed him in the chest with my forefinger, fervently retorting his flowery declarations and seemingly amorous intentions. "Let me get this straight, you almost killed me to enforce a law and now you're magically enamored with me? That's the biggest bunch of bullshit I've ever heard. I'm not a naive child. I've lived long enough to know that everyone has ulterior motives. So, cowboy, I ask you again, what do you want from me?"

"I assure ya' I have no any ulterior motives. I only wish to protect ya' from the threat that plagues your heart. I have no designs on your future and will only take what is freely given," he replied.

_Obviously, he's not easily dissuaded._ "Well, if you insist on hanging around, you should settle in for the long haul. It may take the next fifty years for me to give you the time of day."

A bright smile crossed his lips, and he laughed heartily. His eyes sparkled with amusement, bright as the night sky during a full moon. It wasn't fair for him to wield such an expression, especially one as gorgeous as his. I wanted to smack it right off his smug face. "Oh, I like ya', darlin'! That fire is commendable. What's your name, pretty girl? If we'll be spending the next fifty years together, I should at least know that much, seein' as though I can't address ya' properly without it."

"Kiss off, cowboy. I trust you about as far as I can throw you."

He chuckled and held his hand out, his southern twang practically dripping off his tongue. "Ok, we'll play it your way. The name's Peter Whitlock, ma'am It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

_God, that southern accent could melt the panties off a lesbian!_

Damn it! How in the hell was I supposed to ignore someone who invoked such passionate feelings in me? I was in danger of falling prey to this creature. The asshole sure knew how to get under your skin.

I momentarily hesitated but took proffered hand. "My name is Isabella. Perhaps someday I'll allow you to address me as _Bella_. You have the next fifty years to convince me."

The panty-dropping smile returned as he placed his hat back on his head, dipping the brim reverently. My mouth went dry. "Oh, darlin'. I'll gladly accept the challenge."

_Fuck!_ I was doomed to failure.

* * *

**_Well, what'd ya' think? Reviews are always appreciated. I'll do my best to answer all of them this time. I promise!_**

*Remember this is AU, a deviation following Edward's departure in New Moon. It may seem like the Cullens are asswipes, but I assure you all the family members feelings and most actions are canon. (They would've returned to her had they known the details of this chapter.) Edward still left because he wanted to protect her. And as always, Victoria was still dying for revenge. However, these events are altered from canon: Bella never jumped off a cliff. Edward didn't go to Volterra. And per Edward's request, Alice wasn't actively looking for Bella's future. *


	3. Familial Ties

_Thanks for the reviews and the followers. I'm quite pleased by the reception. ")_

_An: Peter is a mix of arrogance and charm. He's not accustomed to human behavior. After all, he's nomadic and only associates with them on occasion. It still doesn't mean he's not being a little bit of an ass, but rest assured, Bella isn't gonna stand for it._

_Also, so there'll be no confusion, Peter will have a gift. Of course, it's a non-canon gift (since he doesn't have a gift in the Twilight Universe and I'm not ripping off IdreamofEddie's brainchild). In addition, Bella has dark hair and hazel eyes. Plus, she's not a shield, though it is similar in nature._

_Follow me on Twitter! j_annaelisabeth _

* * *

**_"Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops."  
Cary Grant_**

**_*Twilight is the sole property of SM.*_**

**_Chapter 3-Familial Ties_**

**_Peter_**

* * *

I held out my hand to take hers, desperate to touch her ivory skin again, yet also entirely afraid of the rather innocent gesture, as well. Hell, she terrified me. Yes, big ole' war-ravaged Peter Whitlock was terrified of a tiny human. I would've gladly faced the fiery fury of the bitch of the South rather than wait for the approval of my little mate. My enthusiasm and overbearin' personality weren't an easy pill to swallow on the best of days, and my brother would've been the first to throw me under the bus. I was fuckin' flounderin'.

Isabella dropped her eyes and stared at my outstretched fingers—an olive branch to my heart. She paused, her hand hovering over mine for several (excruciating) seconds. Then she sighed. Just when I thought the pavement would likely crack and swallow me whole, she dropped her hand into mine, wrapping her silky digits around mine—a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips.

I took a deep breath and melted into a puddle on the pavement.

When I had asked her name, I wasn't prepared for her to blindside me with such a saucy retort, nor was I ready to be challenged by her equally impressive wit. The woman was an enigma, a beautifully, sinful puzzle, sent from heaven to destroy my beautiful, chaotic life and set it afire. She had burned away my walls and constructed me anew. I wasn't entirely certain I was equipped for such radical change, but she had unwillingly arrested my soul. So, consequently, wherever she went, I would undoubtedly follow.

As if my life wasn't excitin' enough, I had been gifted the orneriest and most lethal brother on the planet. Now, fate had issued me another truly charismatic member to my family. The girl would eat me alive. Then, if that wasn't enough, I could add in Emmett… Lord help me!

A broad smile spread across my face, triggerin' a wicked twinkle in her eyes (something I wasn't sure she was aware that her body had exhibited), which in turn, elicited a deliciously, painful response in my groin. Fuck, if vampires had circulation, my jeans would've cut off mine! I swallowed thickly as I stealthily appraised the real estate, allowing my eyes purchase of her body, immediately in love with her soft curves, ample bust, and slender legs—legs that were currently showcased under her tiny skirt.

_Oh, God! She's killin' me!_

My heart, amongst other things, swelled when I realized she _was_ just as affected by my presence and I was hers, and the thought threatened to override my rational mind. Miss Isabella was my perfect match in every way, and when our eyes met, I was rendered speechless— mesmerized by the doe-like orbs that curiously studied mine in return. Those hazel eyes, framed with thick, dark lashes, were so expressive that I would've gladly drowned in their depths. She blinked and said lashes caressed her high cheekbones, continuing to fan my lust like a forest fire.

Countless words bubbled to the surface as I clawed my way out of the sea of lust, each as ridiculous as the ones that proceeded them. I truly feared stuffin' my boot in my mouth. So, with careful consideration, I chose to keep silent and slowly slid my hat back on my head, dipping the brim downward with reverence.

She blushed at the gesture and unconsciously licked her lips—lips that reminded me of pink chablis that grew outside the window of my childhood home. A guy had to wonder if they were just as silky-smooth as the petals on those flowers. _Please let me find out, soon!_ The blood flushed everything from her cute, dimpled cheeks to her ample bust line._ Gah!_ Her body's reaction to mine set me afire and deliciously spread throughout my hardened veins, awakenin' something that hadn't been used in years. And that something was now dictatin' my rational mind.

Drunk on lust, my disobedient tongue broke free of its confinement, rebellin' against me, matchin' her retort with equal ardentness. "Oh, darlin'. I'll gladly accept the challenge."

She grimaced at my words and tensed, her hazel eyes loosin' their spark. She lightly slid her fingers from mine and looked away. "Vying for my affection is a dangerous thing, even for a vampire. One that I beg you not to attempt. Just being in my presence is unsafe. Deep inside, I can see you are a decent person, Peter Whitlock, and I don't want to see you get hurt." She reached up and lightly traced her fingers across my cheek, leavin' a fire trail under her fingertips. "Those who associate with me, more often than not, find themselves dead_._ It's in your best interest to pretend that I never existed."

The young woman dropped her hand rather abruptly and bit her bottom lip, silently beggin' me to heed her warnin'. Then, just as swiftly as she was thrust into my life, she was suddenly gone, scurrin' down the alley as though her very life depended on it. The woman had rendered me speechless. She asked me to wipe her from my memory. As if that could ever happen, it was inconceivable. Ludicrous even. How could anyone forget his or her own mate?

My Isabella didn't know it yet, but my brother and I were the kind-of fuckers the devil had on speed dial. The girl was runnin' from someone, and bein' the sneaky bastard I was, I intended to find out who, one way or another. She'd soon learn the Whitlock men didn't allow any vampire to threaten what belonged to them, and anyone who attempted as much, would be strung up and slowly peeled apart like tissue paper. He or she wouldn't be lucky enough to get a swift execution, as I planned to take my time and toss the still twitchin' fragments of cold flesh in a carefully constructed pyre. I wanted to feel the fullness in my groin as I watched that pansy-assed motherfucker roast like the Stay Puff marshmallow man.

As I watched my mate slowly scamper away, my inner demon began rattlin' in his cage, uncomfortable with the distance between us. I had little choice but to lose him from his cage and allow my predatory senses to commandeer my rational mind. Seconds later, I had my quarry locked against my chest in an unbreakable hold. I tossed her ebony curls over one shoulder and leaned my lips against her ear. Venom pooled in my mouth as I nuzzled my nose against her pulse point. I took several deep breaths to center myself, reignin' in the instinctual need to claim my mate. Her breath hitched as my cool breath slithered across her delicate skin. She squirmed in my arms, inadvertently rubbin' her sweet little' body against mine. I damned near moaned.

My little escape artist was drivin' me utterly insane. Outside of a guttural growl, my lips had trouble formin' coherent words. "Miss Isabella," I breathed, "did ya' really think I was gonna let you push me away? Darlin', ain't nobody gonna kill me unless I roll over and let 'em."

She turned her head and looked me square in the eye. "How can you know that? Victoria has an impeccable sense of self-preservation and has avoided capture for years. She seems to know where I am every second of the day. No matter where I go, she's there, taunting me. Please don't make her angry. I can't bear to watch anyone else suffer because of me," she wailed.

My mate had another thing comin' if she thought I was gonna let her push me away. She was _mine_. I'd waited far too long to let her slip through my fingers.

I growled under my breath and spun her around, leanin' in close enough for the brim of my hat to rest against her forehead. She tried to pull away, obviously uncomfortable under the intensity of my gaze, but I had to make her understand that I would protect her and be safe doin' it. I gently caught her chin between my thumb and forefinger, turnin' those beautiful hazel eyes back to mine.

"Don't 'cha worry your pretty lil' head about me, ain't nobody but my brother and my sire been able to take me down. This Victoria is obviously infatuated enough to toy with ya', and that makes her weak, predictable. She'll come back for ya' at some point, and when she does, I'll kill her. I'll tell ya' about my past real soon and you'll understand why I'm such a cocky bastard."

"Peter, she and her newborn army swept into town and murdered eleven werewolves, who were coincidentally keeping me safe. Victoria will never stop."

So, the bitch liked to make armies, huh? Well, how very fortuitous that it had once been my job to destroy them.

Tears brimmed in those fathomless depths, and my heart broke as she continued to shake.

"Neither will I. However, I might need a couple more hands if she comes after you with another army. My brother and his family currently reside in New York, so it looks like you and I are takin' a road trip. Miss Isabella, until we can catch the bitch, I ain't lettin' ya' outta my sight. And I understand if ya' don't like that thought of me orderin' you around, but it's my duty to keep ya' safe. I leave nothin' to chance."

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she pondered my words. I knew she was seconds from blowin' her top, but I couldn't concern myself with that now. Even though I craved her love and adoration, her safety was far more important, now. Perhaps, in time, she would see fit to forgive me for my assertiveness. I hoped that was the case, if not, I had an eternity to persuade her. Peter Whitlock always won over his audience.

Just as I had expected, the little minx whipped out her claws. She pulled out of my grasp and took a swing at me. I dropped my hands and smiled widely, allowin' her to take another swing at me. I laughed and stepped back centimeters from fingertips, which spurned her anger like gasoline.

"_Ok. Let's play, kitten," _I purred, motioning her forward with my finger._ "_You're gonna have to try harder than that, if ya' wanna play with the big boys, sweetheart."

My mate scoffed at me and advanced on me again. This time, I didn't allow her to counterattack and pinned her tiny arms to her side. "What 'cha gonna do, darlin'?"

She took a deep breath and kicked at me, missin' me by a country mile. "Fuck off," she growled.

Her attempt at intimidation had the opposite reaction, her tiny kitten growl only served to turn me on further. Was that even possible? "Mmm. As tempting as that sounds, kitten, I'm gonna have to pass on your offer. Later, perhaps, 'cause I'm runnin' a lil' behind tonight. I told my family I'd be in New York hours ago, and you're bein' difficult."

"You arrogant asshole!" I smirked at her retort. "You're going to kidnap me for my own _safety?_ Well, guess what asshat? I've been taking care of myself for eight years and I'm still breathing! Sure, I have a psycho bitch after me and she's dangerous as all hell, but I'm managing the best I can. I don't need a man, vampire or otherwise, to protect me. And, I sure the hell not going with you to New York. I have a job."

I grinned. "I have money. Any more excuses?"

Her fiery temper made me hornier than Hell. Her touch was like a brandin' iron, scorchin' me from within. My inner demon was rattlin' in his cage again, just achin' to get out. I hadn't had sex in so long, I swear I almost cummed in my drawers.

"Peter, you can't just waltz sexy little ass into my life and dictate what I can and cannot do, just because you have some supernatural connection with me. Which I think is a load of horseshit, by the way. You aren't the first vampire to tell me I was his mate. How long will it take for you to get tired of me and leave me, too?" she feverishly demanded.

I released her arms and cupped her face, dwarfin' her tiny features with my hands. Her eyes were a mixture of fury and sadness, and I felt like a complete jackass. "Darlin', I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…What I meant to say was… Fuck, this ain't easy for me. It's not like there's a vampire manual about matin'. My emotions are all over the place, and I don't know which is up." I lamented, droppin' my head in shame. "But, I want 'cha to know one thing, Miss Isabella, I ain't ever gonna leave ya'.

"If you'd have just asked me, I might've understood your position," she said, brushin' my hands from her face and crossin' her arms over her chest in defiance. "I make my own choices, Peter. I hate pushy vampires who feel the need to control me cause I'm human, fragile. The bitch is toying with me, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to kill me because my ex-boyfriend killed her mate. Then the arrogant bastard left me for dead, without even considering my feelings on the subject. He left for my _own good_ cause of the dangers associated with his kind. His own brother took a snap at me, for Christ's sake. But instead of comforting me, he decided he was bored with me. He said I didn't belong in _his world_ and it'd be as though he never existed. Well, that didn't happen. Our relationship was just a load of horseshit and I paid the ultimate price for simply being his pet."

"Well, kitten, the fucker doesn't deserve to even share the planet with you. Someday, I beat the shit outta him for leavin' ya' alone. I might even burn a certain appendage."

I was graced with a small smile.

"Darlin' I sorry for tellin' ya' what to do. Will ya' come meet my family? My brother will absolutely adore you. I think you'll like him, too. All of them. They are far more civilized that I am, that's for sure."

Isabella took a deep breath and let it out, lookin' a little resigned. "You want to take me to a den of human drinking vampires? Are you crazy? I thought you wanted to protect me?"

My lips curved into a huge grin, and I could barely stifle the laugh that coiled in my chest. I understood how she'd come to that conclusion. The Cullens didn't drink from the blood of humans, but I hadn't had a chance to clarify that vital piece of information.

"Like I said, my family are civilized vampires. They only drink from the blood of animals, so I assure you, you'll be quite safe in their presence."

A gasp slipped from her lips and she threw her arms in the air, causin' me to jump at the reaction. "Fuck me six ways to Sunday!" she shrieked. "What the ever loving fuck? Goddamn it! The Cullens? Really? Those assholes left me to die, caused the deaths of one hundred and fifty-seven innocent people, and you want me to willingly subject myself to more pain? Well, you can shove that idea up your ass, Peter Whitlock."

My eyes grew wide. My mind was alight with the sheer influx of information. I was processin' it at lightnin' speed, barley able to comprehend it all, but one thing stood out above the rest. Somebody took a snap at my mate!_ Whoever it was will loose a fuckin' limb!_


	4. Anger Breeds New Friends

_***Twilight is the sole property of SM and her publishing company.***_

_**Chapter 4- Anger Breeds New Friends**_

_**Bella**_

* * *

A gasp slipped from my lips. '_Mother Fucker!'_ I thought, '_this isn't happening to me!'_ I threw my arms up in the air in frustration, consequently frightening my poor mate. "Fuck me six ways to Sunday!" I bellowed.

"What the ever loving fuck? Goddamn it! The Cullens? Really? Those assholes left me to die, caused the deaths of one hundred and fifty-seven innocent people, and you want me to willingly subject myself to more pain? Well, you can shove that idea up your ass, Peter Whitlock."

His eyes grew wide as he watched me pace the small space, scrupulously pondering my words. With his perfect recall, it hadn't taken him but a few seconds to piece together the puzzle. Once he had the completed picture laid out in his mind, a feral growl slipped from his lips, a look of complete and utter fury washing across his face. I was vacillating between anger and terror, the latter taking residence in my chest.

Peter ground his teeth together and growled menacingly, tremors rocking his body. I took a hesitant step back, hoping to avoid his deadly outburst, only to back myself against the brick wall. _Fuck!_ I stifled a whimper as he stalked toward me with a predatory gait, his liquid onyx eyes blazing beneath his long lashes. In the blink of an eye, I was pinned against the wall, hands boxing me in. I took a shallow breath, unable to take a full lungful as the unease swept over me like a heady fog.

My blond mate closed his eyes, trembling from head to toe as he attempted to reign in his inner vampire. The creature who was now aching to be unleashed from his cage. For several extraordinarily long seconds he was as still as the grave, but when he spoke his words were laced with pure venom. "Who, Isabella? Tell me!" he snarled, banging the palms of his hands against the wall. I closed my eyes as the bricks splintered under his fists, showering my hair and body with a light spattering of dust.

My lip trembled slightly, fear coursing through my veins as fast as my heart could pump the blood. Then recognition plowed into me like a freight train. He was inquiring about who had attacked me on my birthday. "It was an accident—"

"An accident? How the hell is nearly killin' my mate an accident?" he roared, promptly interrupting my explanation. "Damn it, Isabella! Who was it?"

I knew things were turning south quickly, and in an attempt to defuse his anger, I reached up and reverently cupped his cheek, projecting enough calm to choke an elephant. Too bad I wasn't an empath so I could knock him out! "You're frightening me a little. Take a deep breath and let it out. I don't want you to fly off the handle," I whispered, my eyes brimming with tears.

He forcibly pushed himself away from the wall and tersely mumbled an apology, looking rather abashed at his outburst. Then, he took a hesitant yet rigid step back and furrowed his brow, anxiously awaiting my reply.

"I want you to know that I forgave him the moment he lunged at me. How can I blame someone for his or her very temperament? It was fucking paper cut, for Christ's sake. Of course, his instincts dictated his actions. You have to understand, as an empath he was even more affected than the others were, practically drowning in their bloodlust. This coupled with his gift, tested his impeccable self-control. Should he truly wished to overpower the others during either incident, I have little doubt he would've been able to subdue them. I've never considered Jasper a monster, nor will I ever."

He stepped toward me, a low snarl slipping between his teeth, and he gently grasped my shoulders, looking deep into my eyes. "Please tell me it wasn't my own brother who took a snap at you." I nodded cautiously, hesitant to share the truth. "Damn it! I'm gonna tear Jasper apart piece by fuckin' piece and laugh as I roast him over an open flame like a damned pig. Only after I kick his ass all over New York. How dare he threaten what is MINE," he roared.

I felt the air whip past my face, as he once again pounded his fist against the brick façade of the alley. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around my head, my heart furiously pounding beneath my sternum. Another roar slipped from his lips, and I braced myself for another display of anger. Thankfully, it never occurred. I unfurled my arms and gazed around in the darkness, spotting him leaning against the dumpster, silent sobs racking his large frame. "You need to leave, Isabella. Get as far away from me as you can, before I accidentally harm you. I'm out of control. About five blocks from here is my blue Ford pick-up. It's unlocked. Just wait for me in the cab and lock the doors."

"But—"

"NOW!"

A sob left my lips as I spun on my heel and sprinted down the alley, not sparing a second glance as he resumed his rage. I cupped my hands over my ears, wincing at the God-awful clamor that that arose as the dumpster tumbled down the corridor. Peter had me so confused with his hot and cold emotions. He was a walking/talking conundrum on two legs, and I was frightened that the fates tethered me to this unstable creature. And even more alarming was that I yearned to quell his anger. Hadn't I suffered enough at the hands of the supernatural world? _Fuck my life!_

As I rounded the corner of the alley, I spared one last glance over my shoulder as I sprinted down the sidewalk, which wasn't my strong suit. I was as wobbly as a newborn colt, constantly falling over thin air. According to Jacob, I stumbled out of my mother's womb and never got my sea legs. I smiled brightly at that memory. That was good day for us, sitting in the Rabbit, drinking warm Coke, and laughing about stupid shit that he and I never were able to accomplish. The kid was my bright and shinning star, my sunny retreat from the horrors of the supernatural world. He picked me up and brushed me off after Edward had so callously threw me away, always waiting in the wings for me to love him. I only wished I would've told him how much I cared before that redheaded wench stole him from me.

The moment I was out of danger from Peter's outburst, I found myself knee deep in another dangerous situation. While my head was turned, I promptly ran smack dab in the middle of a pair of marble arms. I yelped in pain, rapidly toppling to the ground in a tangled heap. Startled by my abrupt change in momentum, my eyes swept up and captured another set of crimson irises. My breath hitched in my throat, strangling a scream that ached to be released. _Fuck!_ The leeches were out in full force tonight. In pairs, no doubt!

I frantically scrambled backward on the palms of my hands. My attacker bent on one knee and leaned in close, gazing deep into my eyes. I threw my arms up and pushed against his rock-solid frame, preparing to fight him off. Despite my uncharacteristic weakness in the alley, I wasn't a pathetic little girl anymore. If this vampire wanted a piece of me, he was gonna have to wrestle me to the ground and forcibly remove it from my body. Instead of the feral creature I expected, I received a breathtaking smile in its place.

"Well, aren't you the prettiest lil' thing this side of the Mason Dixon line," he cooed, his a thick Bostonian accent dripping from every word. I shuddered as he gently cupped my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face from side to side, as he scrupulously assessed me. Surprisingly, I wasn't all that disgusted by his touch. Somehow, it almost felt safe.

I blinked rapidly as my eyes swept over the vampire's handsome features. He was tall and lean with a broad chest and sharp jaw, darkened by a perpetual, but oh so sexy, five o'clock shadow. The vampire's pale skin and facial structure was framed by long, sandy hair, very lightly threaded with silver strands, which spilled over his shoulders in a cascade of waves.

The man was slightly older than Peter and possibly Carlisle, undoubtedly closer to his mid-thirties when he was bitten. Those bonus years weren't a detriment to his beauty, though. Unlike Peter, who had almost ethereal features, this man's rugged good looks gave him leg up on the younger vampires—like the Cullen kids, who, as a result, were hindered by their child-like youth.

A smug smile pulled at his lips when he realized I was ogling him. He was sure a cocky bastard. "Who ya' running from, Sugar Cane?"

His eyes rose, waiting for me to answer his question. "My m…mate, I guess," I stammered. "I've known him all of ten minutes. The man was two seconds away from killing me to enforce one of your laws, but once he looked into my eyes, he was a like a goddamned Neanderthal. Then, as if I wasn't terrified enough, he verbally staked his claim. He's in the alley pummeling everything this side of heaven because another vamp tried to take a bit outta me."

The blond wrapped his arms around his center and roared with laughter, the smooth tenor of his voice echoing across the expanse. "Oh, kitten! Aren't you a feisty one! Your man has his work cut out for him. Don't 'cha be too hard on your mate, though, even if he is acting like a complete jackass. He's just upset he couldn't protect you. I never have understood that whole mating nonsense. Monogamy seems rather ridiculous if you ask me. I adore woman, and they adore me. One-night stands are easy. After a night of raw passion, it's nice to just put on my pants and walk away with no regrets."

I blushed furiously. He chuckled and held out his hand again, wiggling his fingers. "The name's Garrett Dennison. I'm a vamp of all trades. I'm proficient in many things, including but not restricted to- rescuing damsels in distress, eradicating the miscreants of society, and offering my services in the bedchamber. I'm better than one of those vibrating sex toys. More interactive, too! Would it impress you if I told you I could make a woman come in less than a minute?"

Stifling a giggle, I held out my hand, and he enveloped it within his large palm, gently hauling me to my feet. Then, he placed a small kiss on my back of my knuckles before placing it gently at my side. "Isabella Swan. But you can call me Bella. It's a pleasure to meet you, Garrett. And no, I'm far from impressed. If you could make a woman orgasm with a just a kiss, then I'd be in awe of your talents."

Garrett wiggled his eyebrows and held out his elbow in a courteous fashion, wishing to escort me down the sidewalk. I took it without a thought, wrapping my tiny hands securely around his large arms. It had been years since I'd been amused by anyone. I hadn't had the chance to live my life to the fullest. _Running from a sadistic killer is hell on your social life._ "Is that a challenge, Miss Swan?"

"I think not. You, Sir, are far too charming for your own good. I think if you tried hard enough, you could get a nun to shimmy out of her habit. I think in an alternate timeline, you would've had me at the kiss. Alas," I sighed dramatically, throwing my arm across my forehead in a very 'Gone with the Wind' sort-of gesture. "It seems like I have a mate whether I want one or not. I'm not even sure I like the bastard."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Now, now, Sugar. I wouldn't count the bastard out just yet. Give him a chance to redeem himself, and then, if you're so inclined, I'll kick his ass to the curb for ya' and we can run off into the sunset together. Kissing and everything."

I snorted and slapped his chest. "You're a conceited ass."

Garrett laughed at my non-witty retort. "Miss Bella, I've been told I have the nicest ass this side of the Rio Grande. Would you like to see it up close? Maybe take a picture and post it on social media? I'm telling you, it would go viral."

"Aren't you just a piece of work? I like that about you, though, and that's a feat, in and of itself. I don't form relationships with people. Being my friend is dangerous. But you seem the type that can handle a bit of danger."

"I can handle anything you throw at me baby! Just one thing, though. Where you headed when you tried to cop a feel?"

"Under no circumstance was I 'coping a feel'!" I snapped, ripping my hand out of the crook of his arm. "I was rather clumsily running toward my mate's truck when I ran into you. He told me to wait for him there until he cooled down. But to tell you the truth, I just wanna jump in my own truck and drive like a bat outta Hell and drive so far away that nobody'll find me."

Garrett tipped his head to the side and scowled. "Who you really running from, kitten?"

I ignored the question and asked my own, desperate to avoid the Victoria issue all together. I didn't want to scare off the first potential friend I'd found in nearly a decade. "So, what were you going to do for Christmas? Do you have a coven?"

"Well, I don't rightly know, little Bella. Tonight, I just popped into town to grab a bite to eat. Lucky for me, the holidays bring out the crazies. I fancy myself a vigilante of sorts, only feeding off the scum of the earth—rapists and child molesters. Disgusting people who deserve to die. Outside of dinner, I wasn't planning to do anything, as I have no coven of my own. I'm a nomad. Why do you ask?"

I looked up through my lashes rather shyly and bit my lip hesitantly. "Well, I was hoping that if you didn't have any plans, that you'd me accompany Peter and me to his family's house. I desperately need a buffer between him and the assholes who ruined my life. Plus, I'm hoping that I can keep him from killing his brother. Will you do it? Please?" I implored, batting my eyelashes for effect.

The smile that crossed Garrett's face made me think his porcelain skin might actually crack under the strain. "Darlin', I might actually take you up on that offer. It's been a while since I've been invited to any family functions. Hell, it might be fun. I know most of vampires her in the States, quite a few covens, as well. Who are we visiting?" he said, patting my hand.

"The Cullens."

He nodded his head in recognition. "Ah, yes. Carlisle and I go way, way, way back. A least a century, maybe more. I don't rightly recall the year we actually met. It doesn't matter, really. So, one of the Doc's precious protégées tried to make a snack outta you? Please tell me it was Ginger Cullen? I've been aching to kick his ass for years. Smug son of a bitch, anyway"

"Nope," I said, emphasizing the 'p'. "It was Jasper. And like I told Peter, it wasn't his fault. I sliced my finger on some wrapping paper and he lunged at me.

I forgave him the moment it happened, because it's in his nature to crave blood."

He unnecessarily cleared his throat, stifling a laugh. "Are you telling me you're Peter Whitlock's mate?" I nodded. "The Major and the Captain squaring off? An empath against his antidote. The Major will actually have to fight fair. Outta be a damned good fight. We could sell tickets to this shit and make a fortune. Well, hell! I wouldn't miss this fight for all the tea in China, so you've got yourself a traveling companion." He held out his hand and we shook on it. "Now, let's hurry up and get you to Peter's truck before he rips my head off and sticks it on the antennae pole."

Garrett and I made quick work of the last three blocks to Peter's truck, laughing like two drunken idiots on their way home. Surprisingly, I felt safe with him. He and I were like two peas in a pod, both as sarcastic as two different species could've been. Being in his presence felt like stepping through the front door of Emily's house, surrounded by a half dozen sweltering bodies who passed me around as though I were two year old child, radiating love and family.

It began to pour down rain the moment we stepped off the curb. I grabbed the door handle and swung it open, squealing as the cold water pelted my skin. Garrett grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me into the cab. I clambered into the seat, my hair dripping all over the upholstery. Once situated, I scooted over to make room for my vampire friend, but a flash of blond in my periphery caught my eye. A giant crash rocked the cab and the door crashed closed. I screamed for Garrett as the silence erupted in a cacophony of snarls and crashing bodies.

I gingerly swung my legs over the seat and forcibly wrenched opened the back windows just in time to see Garrett in a headlock. I panicked, screaming at Peter to let him free. When he didn't listen, I slithered my small frame out of the tiny window and fell to my belly in the bed of the truck. I drug my body over to the wheel-wells and pulled myself up to my feet, glaring daggers at my mate. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I will tan your hide if you lay one hand on him, Peter Whitlock. He wasn't hurting me one bit!"

Peter growled at him and tossed him against the bed of the truck, inciting a round of raucous laughter from my newest vampire friend. The movement of his body connecting with the vehicle knocked me off balance, and I tumbled over the side. Luckily, vampires have excellent reflexes and I ended up on my feet as opposed to my head, dodging the whole blood fiasco that would've ensued had I connected with the pavement. Because, as I recall, the smell of my blood and the enigma of my silent mind enticed young Edward enough to seek me out, causing a snowball effect of epic proportions. Fuck, it was more like an avalanche. So much death!

Garrett pushed himself away from the vehicle and straightened his sodden clothes. "Don't get your panties in a twist, O'Capitaaan. I wouldn't hurt your mate. You know I don't feed from women. Besides, little Bella and I were keeping one another company while you got your shit together. We hit it off so well that she invited me to the Cullens for Christmas. I'm sure Carlisle won't mind. And I sure the hell won't mind if the 'cousins' are visiting. I've been a little lonely."

I snorted. Obviously, my new friend was thinking with his other head. Edward had told me about the infamous 'Denali cousins'. According to him, they were gorgeous creatures with a veracious appetite for sex, preferably 'human' men. But as they were constantly attempting to ensnare Edward, I thought that they'd bed just about anyone. I expect to hear about Garrett's escapades. Whether it was just one sister, or all three, considering he was such a man-whore. Extra circular activities were on his list of things (or women) to 'do'. Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!

Peter furrowed his brow. "Why does Garrett get to address you by your nickname? I'm your mate," he said rather petulantly.

"Maybe she just likes me better, Whitlock?"

My mate growled at Garrett and socked him hard in the gut. "Fuck off, Dennison!"

"Hey, don't be rude! Maybe I allow him to call me Bella because he didn't try to kill me two minutes after he met me."

Peter looked up at me with a pained expression painted across his handsome face, and I felt like an utter asshole for reminding him of his near deadly folly. Unfortunately, it was the truth, and I couldn't bring myself to take it back. "Oh, Isabella, sweetheart—"

I sauntered forwarded and jabbed him in the chest with my forefinger, promptly cutting him off. "Don't Isabella sweetheart me! It's Miss Swan to you, old man! Remember…fifty years."

"Ugh," he groaned, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, muttering how I was an infuriating woman. Garrett and I snickered. "Is there a reason why we're cartin' his sorry carcass to New York?"

"Little Bella hoped that I would mediate the confrontation, being a neutral party and all. Perhaps keep you from tearing your brother limb from limb, while you talk it out," Garrett retorted. "Besides, I kinda like the kid. She's sweet and funny, an all around charming little gem. I'd hate to see her get hurt."

"Just…both of you get in the goddamned truck," he snarled. Garrett smirked and I stifled a giggle with the palm of my hand. "I swear to God, if I get a call from a certain pixie askin' where the hell I am, I makin' ya'll speak to her and tell her why we're late. It's both your fault."

I scoffed. "No way, Jose. There's no way I'm talking to that lying, backstabbing…That clairvoyant bitch, Alice, deserves a tongue lashing in person, preferably while I'm dousing the items in her closet with some sort of accelerant and a match."

Garrett roared with laughter. "Aren't you a feisty one, tonight?"

"The woman is incorrigible. She needs to simmer down a bit."

"Now, tell me the truth, Whitlock. If the fates had gifted you a demure, wilted flower, instead of this fiery tigress, you'd been disappointed."

"Reckon you're right. But, this little princess ain't nothing but T.R.O.U.B.L.E with a capital T," he retorted, sauntering toward me like a hungry predator. He flashed that trademark panty-dropping smile, and swept me up in his arms, sopping clothes and all. Then, he tossed me over his shoulder like a Neanderthal. I struggled in his grasp, pounding on his back, and demanded me to let me down. He growled and told me to simmer down. I refused to comply with his demand and he swatted me hard on the ass twice. I couldn't help the moan that escaped my lips. He chuckled and smacked me on the ass again for good measure. It stung like a son-of-a-bitch but it was oddly erotic at the same time. I rubbed my thighs together, growing wet with want. Peter drew in a ragged breath and let it out. That bastard could smell it! _Damn vampires!_

"I had a mare like you once. Stubborn as all hell, throwing her head about and fighting that bridle n' bit like I stuck barbed wire in her mouth. Finally, I had enough of her and sunk my spurs into her side. Then, I wrenched her head against my boot and kept spurin' her 'til I sent her into a dizzin' spin. After about a half hour, I eased up on the reigns, hopin' she'd learned her lesson, but like a goddamned mule, she went right back to fightin' me. It took me days to wear her down, but I finally broke her. Can I tame you, Isabella. Shall I wrangle up a bridle n' bit for ya'? I'm always up for a little role play."

"You bastard!" I wailed, swatting him so hard on the ass that my hand stung. I admit that I left my hands on those gorgeous hams a little longer than necessary but hell... He startled a bit and chuckled, tossing me in the backseat of the truck and swinging himself in.

I leaned in and brushed my lips against his ear. I smiled like the Cheshire cat when Peter moaned like a whore in the backseat of a car. Hmm. Guys obviously enjoy that, as well. "Nah, Pete. We don't need any bridles 'n bits, no spurs or saddles, although a whip and a lariat seem like a necessity. Just sayin'. After your little display in the alley, I think you need a thorough whoopin'!"

Peter whipped his head toward Garrett, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Did you hear that, man? The woman is threatenin' me bodily harm. What the fuck did you do to her? You spent all of ten minutes with my mate and you corrupted her!"

"I certainly did no such thing. While I did offer my specialized service in the bedroom, she politely declined. You can't learn anything from me in ten minutes. I like to savor my meal, if you know what I mean."

_Shit. This could turn out really good or really bad._

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_**Well, what'd ya think? Review are greatly appeciated!**_


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